


What If You Stayed

by Kalina_E



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Also like Pennywise isn't even mentioned properly, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ben/Bev is only background, But also kinda assholes, Crying, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, First Kiss, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Morning Kisses, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sharing a Bed, Tags Are Hard, They're adults but there's a lot of scenes from the past, Trauma, Violence, Y'all know how it be, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 12:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20796695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalina_E/pseuds/Kalina_E
Summary: “Move!” Richie grabs for Eddie and pushes, sending them both rolling to the side as the arm stabs into the ground where the two men just were.They lock eyes for a precious second before Richie's brain catches up with him. “What are you doing? Move asshole!”---Eddie survives and everything grows from there.





	What If You Stayed

**Author's Note:**

> If I were Richie, I would simply save Eddie.  
Rip to movie Richie but I'm different.
> 
> Just to clarify, parts done in italics are in the past.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_Three doors. Richie stares at them hoping that, if he stares hard enough, one might offer him an obvious path to where he can hear Eddie screaming. He makes a grab for the 'Not Scary At All' door and wrenches it open, seeing only darkness before that voice creeps through his mind._

_“Where are my legs?”_

_Richie stumbles back from the door, from the voice. The light flicks on and it's her. Betty Ripsom hangs there, wailing about her legs and Richie screams, screams that he doesn't know until his voice is hoarse._

_“Richie!” The scream is like a slap in the face._

_“Eddie! Eddie, where are you?!”_

_He dithers in front of the door before screwing his eyes shut and running through. He skids to a halt in the kitchen, arriving just in time to watch the clown tear Eddie's head from his body._

_He wakes up with a scream in his throat and a hammer thudding at his ribs. He hugs his knees to his chest and looks around his room, struggling to catch his breath and wondering if this is how Eddie feels when he grabs for his inhaler._

_Eddie._

_For a few horrible, horrible moments, Richie forgets how it really happened, forgets that all those weeks ago he wasn't alone, that he had Bill there to lead them past the living corpse of Betty Ripsom. That they got to Eddie in time._

_He throws himself out of bed and, without bothering to change out of his pyjamas, tugs on some shoes and leaves the house. He near runs to Eddie's house, the chill of autumn making him wish briefly that he had thought to grab a coat._

_When he reaches the house, he scales the drainpipe, perching like a cat (or clinging like a limpet, depending on who you ask) onto the windowsill. From his perch, he can see him._

_Eddie. Fast asleep, his chest slowly moving up and down and the worry in his brow soothed._

_Richie lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he looks in. He suddenly feels pretty silly. Of course Eddie's okay. He knew that. He didn't need to check on him._

_Richie stays for another five minutes. Just in case._

\---

“Richie! Richie, I did it! I think I killed It!”

Blearily blinking, Richie sees Eddie.

Eddie, who he just watched get impaled from this exact position. Eddie, who he watched get tossed aside like garbage, left to bleed out.

Eddie, alive and staring down at him, unaware of the arm rearing back, ready to strike. Ready to make Richie's vision a reality.

“Move!” Richie grabs for Eddie and _pushes_, sending them both rolling to the side as the arm stabs into the ground where the two men just were.

They lock eyes for a precious second before Richie's brain catches up with him. “What are you doing? Move asshole!”

And they do, scrambling to their feet and diving for the nearest cover they can spot, arms clasping at each other as they run. Richie is vaguely aware of Eddie shouting but the words wash over him, comprehensible.

As they cower from the clown, Richie feels his mouth start to run away from him.

“I thought you said you fucking killed it!”

Eddie scowls, although the effect is somewhat lost due to his trembling, “Hey, I just saved your life!”

“And I just saved yours!”

_Eddie, impaled, his eyes wide, terrified._

Eddie shakes Richie slightly; they never stopped grasping each other.

“Hey, stay with me man,” Eddie looks worried, “We still have to kill this fucking thing.”

Richie nods, and then shakes his head, trying to refocus. He looks at Eddie, just to remind himself. “Any ideas Eds?”

“Don't call me that, you know I...” But he trails off, looking back towards where they both knew It to be, “When I killed the Leper, I made it small. What if we make It small?”

“Made it small how?”

“I just... Stopped being scared of it. I made it feel powerless.” Eddie takes his hands back to himself and starts wringing them, looking up at Richie nervously.

Richie nods, “Just don't be scared of the clown. No problem. That guy never scared me anyway.”

They exchange small, nervous smiles before Eddie grabs for Richie's hand. Richie squeezes and says, “Hey. We've got this. I won't let anything get my Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie rolls his eyes and Richie feels better.

And they run out, ready to kill the fucking clown.

\---

_“Richie, would you sit still for f-five f-f-fucking seconds?” Bill snaps, tired of watching Richie pace around the den._

_Richie does pause in his pacing, turning to look at Bill, who was lounging in the hammock. “Do you know think it's weird that Eddie isn't here yet? He said he'd be here.”_

_“Maybe he got caught up with his mom.” Stan offers from his perch on one of the makeshift seats._

_“Or maybe he got caught up with your mom.” Richie says without thought, resuming his tireless patrol._

_“Beep beep, Richie.” Stan sighs._

_“I think Richie's right,” Ben chimes, looking away from his conversation with Beverly, “Eddie's been really standing up to his mom recently. What if something's happened to him?”_

_Richie beams at Ben, “Thank you! I sure am glad I've got at least one friend in this tough ol' world.” He says, putting on one of his voices._

_“There's no harm in checking.” Mike says, rising from his seat. _

_The rest of the Losers follow his lead, exiting the den and heading towards the edge of the woods. They're just about to hit the road when Stan spots it._

_“Guys...” He says, his voice quiet as he points. Following his fingers, the rest of them see it too. Eddie's bike, carelessly left in the dirt._

_“Oh shit. Fuck, something's happened to him!” Richie looks around frantically, “Eddie!”_

_“Calm down Richie,” Beverly says, gripping his arm, “He's gonna be alright. This is Eddie, he's tougher than he looks.”_

_Bill leads them the short distance onto the road, and they all see it. Eddie, slumped just a little ways up the road, against the barrier of the Kissing Bridge. They all run for him, feet pelting against the tarmac. Bill gets there first but Richie pushes to the front, falling to his knees beside the boy._

_“Eddie! Eddie, wake up!” He grabs his shoulders, shaking him for a moment before Mike pulls his hands off of Eddie._

_“Richie, stop. He's hurt.” And sure enough, his face was splattered with blood and his knees were skinned._

_“Is he fucking dead!?” Richie looks around wildly, hoping for a clue as to who did this, but only seeing two letter carved into the wood next to Eddie._

_Ben crouches next to Richie and gently taps Eddie's cheek before placing two fingers to his neck. He looks as though in thought for a moment before exhaling, “He's not dead.”_

_As he speaks, Eddie shifts slightly, his head twitching as though he was trying to lift it but the effort was too much. He attempts to speak but only manages a pained groan. Richie tilts his head under where Eddie's is drooped, looking into his unfocused eyes._

_“Eds! I thought you were fucking dead, you look fucked up man.”_

_At least three of the Losers chorus a, “Beep beep, Richie!” as they pull him back from Eddie to give him space._

_Richie steps back unhappily as the rest of his friends check on Eddie, gently asking him questions and checking him for serious injuries. He closes his eyes, listening to Eddie's quiet replies, using them to remind himself that the boy was okay._

_He was alive._

\---

After It, the Losers go back to the Quarry. Just like when they were kids, they jump, letting the lake wash away the horrors of the day. And then, they laugh, and that cleanses them too. They stick close in the water, splashing each other, telling jokes and telling stories. Eddie only complains about the water twice.

They remember Stan, how he always looks so unassuming but would get this guilty smile just before cracking a joke, or making a jibe. How he was scared of bugs getting in his hair but not of the bullies who mocked him for his religion. And they remember how he sacrificed everything for them to defeat It.

Richie sticks close to Eddie as they splash about, almost scared to let him out of his sight. Eddie keeps shooting him looks that Richie struggles to decipher. The only thing he can focus on is Eddie, skewered in the air, Eddie, gasping for breath, Eddie, slumped on the ground, blood, so much blood and-

“Richie!” He blinks and there's Eddie. Whole. Alive. He blinks again as his eyes start to burn.

“I thought you died.” He rasps and, before he can react, Eddie's there, his arms wrapping around him, holding him safe and close.

_When did you stop being so small?_

He can quite get the words past the lump in his throat as the rest of the Losers wade over, joining in the hug as they form a protective bubble with all of them safe inside. Richie makes a choked sound, letting his forehead drop onto Eddie's shoulder.

He allows their love to wash him clean.

\---

Things go back to some sense of normal after everything. Some things stay the same, but a lot of things change. For one, the Losers make a WhatsApp group, vowing never to lose touch again.

They keep each other updated on their lives; Ben and Beverly move in together, sending a constant stream of photos, including half a dozen a day of their spoilt-rotten dog; Mike finally leaves Derry, hitting the road and travelling the length of America. He sends photos of mountains, oceans, and lakes, some with him grinning in the corner; Bill doesn't send photos but he does send them words. Countless drafts of his books get sent, the majority accompanied by, 'If any of you have time, I'd love to get some feedback'. All of the Losers make time to read them.

Richie himself sends snaps taken from the stage of his shows, giving them captions like '#flex', which none of the other Losers get.

(The first time he sent this, he got three photos back of Ben, Mike, and Eddie respectively posing with their arms flexed.)

(And if he saved the one of Eddie, no-one had to know that.)

Eddie doesn't really send photos but he does keep them all updated on his life. He tells them about how his wife tried to lock him in the house when he came home. He tells them about the guys at work laughing at his injuries (he hears so many jokes about how he clearly failed to 'analyse the risk' in is first week back that he almost quits).

And then, one day, with no preamble, 

_'I'm getting a divorce'_

The chat quickly floods with condolences and offers for a place to stay (which he declines, already having an apartment lined up), or someone to talk to. 

Richie stares at the screen for a while. He types a lame,

_'Hope youre okay eds'_

And adds a quick,

_'Probs a good thing tho, she was literally your mom'_

And then, 

_'And I can tell you from experience that your mom is not a good lay'_

He watched with a smile as the chat is flooded with _'beep beep'_s but awaits Eddie's reply with bated breath. After an agonising minute, Eddie finally sends,

_'Can't be as bad as your mom'_

\---

A couple of months after Eddie splits from his wife, Richie finds his comedy tour taking him to Eddie's home city. He shoots him a message, head buzzing,

_'Guess whos coming to NYC!'_

_'Hmmm, can't think of anyone...'_

_'And here I was, about to offer you free tickets to my show :('_

_'Is it “your show” when you don't write it?'_

_'Eds! You wound me :((('_

_'Don't call me that, you know I hate it'_

_'Will you come to my show Eddie spaghetti???'_

_'...I'll consider it...'_

Richie grins at his phone, so much so that his manager walks over, attempting to peer at his phone.

“What's got you so happy? You never used to smile this much.”

Richie grins up at him, exaggerating the expression, “Am I not simply allowed to be happy?”

The man scoffs and walks away, interest clearly lost.

Richie stays in high spirits for the remainder of the week, so much so that by the time they reach New York, he can hardly sit still, taking instead to pacing the length of his tour bus. He tells that security team to send Eddie straight to him when he arrives and gets ready in a jittery state.

Finally (_finally!_) a runner knocks on the door of his dressing room and calls through, “Um, Eddie Kaspbrak is here? You said to send him to-”

Before he can finish, Richie wrenches the door open. The runner's eyes widen in shock before he scampers off, leaving just Eddie.

_Eddie._

Richie grins at him and they barely hesitate before stepping unto each others' space and embracing.

“Good to see you Eds.” Richie mumbles into his hair, breaking in his clean smell.

“Don't call me that.” But Richie can tell that he's smiling.

They part, and Richie leads Eddie into his dressing room, batting away his jests about the make-up he's applying.

(“Aww, are you getting all dolled up for me?”

“It's for the stage lights, asshole!”)

All too soon, Richie's being called for a five minute warning so he leads Eddie to the edge of the curtains, telling one of the runners to get a chair.

“Will I even be able to see you from back here?” Eddie complains, peering dubiously at the stage.

Richie smirks, “You've got the best view in the house, baby!” And, before Eddie can respond, Richie's striding out on the stage and up to the mic.

(And, as Eddie watches his behind, he suddenly gets what Richie meant when he said '_best view_'.)

The crowd erupt instantly into applause and Richie lets his smile grow ever so slightly as he opens his show. Any doubt about Eddie not finding him funny is washed out with the audience's laughter and the fact that Eddie is _here_.

“So, tonight I actually have a special someone here to see the show,” A lady in the audience wolf-whistles and Richie points towards the sound, “Not that sort of special, _Debra_!” Richie pauses for a second as people laugh, glancing to the side to try and see Eddie. Instead he sees his manager, glaring at him and shaking his head a little.

Richie's never gone off script before.

He returns his gaze forward, plucking the mic from the mic-stand, “No, it's actually one of my best buddies, Eddie. And he is, without a doubt, the funniest guy I have ever met. One the first day we met, he was wearing an honest to god, fanny-pack.”

He doesn't even know if the audience are laughing. All he knows is that he wants to tell them something real.

\---

_It was the first day of sixth grade and Richie had just made his first friend._

_Bill._

_While everyone else scooted a little away from the new kid who couldn't keep his mouth shut, Bill sat down right next to him, and even laughed at some of his jokes! When they broke for lunch, Richie had hesitated in following his new friend until Bill turned back to him._

_“Hey, d-do you wanna sit with me a-and my friends?”_

_Richie grinned then and fell into step next to Bill, leading him to this moment, just about to enter the cafeteria. At the door, Bill stops him, grabbing his arm. Richie turns._

_“Y-you're not go-gonna make fun of my friend, r-r-right?” Bill looks at him with challenge in his eyes and Richie understands in that instant that these friends aren't going to be 'cool'._

_He clutches a hand to his heart, gasping dramatically, “William, darling, I am offended that you would think so little of me!” He puts on his best, most posh voice and Bill smiles, seemingly relieved._

_“Let's go then.” And he leads the way through the cafeteria, winding between tables until they come to a stop before two boys. One is of a similar height to Bill, his hair a manic mess of curls scrunched on his head. He offers a polite smile to Richie before giving a look to Bill._

_And the other one is tiny, barely looking old enough to be in middle school. He looks up at Richie with wide eyes that almost seem to pop out of his head, his face pinched with uncertainty. He's cute, dressed in the most ridiculous shorts Richie has ever seen and, around his waist-_

_“Is that a fucking fanny-pack?”_

_Bill and the curly-haired kid look at Richie in shook and he belatedly remembers that he said he wasn't going to make fun of Bill's friends. Whoops._

_He starts scrambling round his head for an apology, something that might salvage this new friendship, when the small boy narrows his eyes at him and says,_

_“Yeah, it's full of condoms. Tell your mom I finally got some big enough.”_

_For a beat, the table is silent. And then Bill snorts and suddenly the whole table is laughing. Richie sits down next to this small but surprisingly fierce kid, slinging his arm around his shoulders as he does so. He feels so tiny that for a second Richie is worried he might crush him, but the boy's laughter reminds him that he's not so fragile._

_“I'm Richie.”_

_“Eddie Kaspbrak.” He wiggles a little under Richie's arm so he releases him, pulling out his lunch._

_The rest of lunch is spent telling jokes and swapping food (although Eddie refuses to join in this particular part), and, by the end of the break, the Losers have a new member._

\---

After the show, Eddie takes Richie out to a bar that somehow manages to straddle the line between Eddie's ideal, squeaky clean restaurant and Richie's choice dive-bar. Eddie teases Richie a little about his show as they drink, affection easy in his voice.

“I can't believe you spent fifteen minutes talking about me in your show. When did you even add that?”

Richie grins, slightly sheepish, “Technically, I didn't.”

“What, you just made it up on the fly? Professional.”

“Shut up Eddie Spaghetti, you should feel honoured. My manager's totally gonna bust my ball over the whole thing.”

Eddie nudges his arm a little, “Hey, the audience liked it well enough. Although they might think you're in love with me now.”

Richie's eyebrows fly up over his glasses, “Why would they think that?”

“Well, you did call me cute.” Eddie smiles impishly so Richie reaches up and pinches his cheeks.

“You are cute, Eds.”

“Don't call me that!” He laughs as he attempts to swat Richie's hands away, eventually managing to break free.

They drink well into the night, both of them ending up feeling loose and fuzzy.

“Were- Were you ever in love with Bev when we were kids?”

Richie snorts, “No fucking way man. Why, were you?”

Eddie shakes his head and Richie feels a little dizzy watching the movement, “No, no, no. No! It just feels like everyone was at some point, y'know?”

Richie nods sagely, “It's because she was the only girl.”

“Hmm...” Eddie looks thoughtfully at his half empty glass, “But not for you though.”

“Nah. Ma heart belonged t' another.” He says it in a cowboy voice and Eddie doesn't call him out for it. Eddie always let him get away with more eccentricities. He was good like that.

He does however look interested, “And who was the lucky person?”

Richie smiles coyly, “Ah, well that's a secret.”

“Even from your cutest friend?” Eddie bats his eyes and Richie feels his heart swoop dangerously.

Somehow throughout the night they've shifted closer, their knees touching under the table of the small booth they're seated at. Richie goes for his drink but finds it empty.

“Even from my cutest friend.”

Eddie nudged his shoulder and Richie wishes he was sober. He wishes he was more drunk.

“Did you at least tell this person?” He taps Richie's chest, right over his heart, “They must be pretty important if you gave them this.”

He drops his hand but Richie catches it. He doesn't know why.

“I never told them.”

Eddie looks at their joined hands, blinding rapidly before looking back up at Richie. Richie resists the urge to look away.

“Why not?”

Richie swallows and swears he sees Eddie watch the movement.

“I was scared.”

His heart hammers as Eddie shifts closer, their whole sides pressed together, a line of warmth gluing them together.

“And now?”

Richie looks at Eddie, and Eddie looks right back. His eyes are warm. Everything feels warm and slightly hazy, like when you wake up from a good dream and can still taste it on your tongue for a few glorious seconds.

“I'm terrified.”

The kiss feels like the most inevitable thing in the world. For a second their lips brush cautiously before Richie presses forward, more certain. He makes a small, needy sound in the back of his throat and Eddie moves his free hand to tangle in his hair, knocking his glasses slightly as he does it. Richie draws a hand up to Eddie's cheek, running his thumb carefully long the thin scar as they kiss.

Slowly, regretfully, Richie draws back, breathless. Eddie chases his lips as they part and Richie almost allows himself to be caught. Instead he looks at Eddie; his skin is flushed and his lips are slightly parted, breaths coming out in small puffs. Their hands remain clasped in Richie's lap.

They meet each other's gaze and, unable to help it, they grin. Richie rests his forehead against Eddie's, “That was so much better than kissing your mom.”

Richie finds himself shoved back, but he's quickly drawn back in by Eddie's laughter, “I fucking knew you'd say something stupid!”

“What can I say? I'm nothing if not reliable.” Richie squeezes Eddie's hand and he squeezes back.

“A pain in the ass is what you are.” Eddie says but then he leans up and kisses him again and Richie loses whatever plan he had about a comeback.

He finds that this is much nicer anyway, the gentle slide of their mouths and the careful exploration of their hands.

(Eddie's hair is soft, which he knew already, but it feels different to run his hands through it now, like this, with Eddie making soft sighs into his mouth.)

Eventually they part again and Richie glances out of the warm bubble of their booth, spotting an old man watching them with a sinister smile from the bar.

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Richie suggests, “Unless you wanna invite ol' toothless over there to join us.”

Eddie turns to look at the bar and shudders, “Gross, how long do you think he's been watching?”

“Aww, is Eddie embarrassed?” Richie pinches his cheek but, unlike earlier, Eddie just grabs his hand in his own. Richie lets him.

“I'm not _embarrassed_. I just think we should get out of here,” He reaches up and fixes Richie's glasses, “We could head back to mine?”

Richie smirks and wiggles his eyebrows, “My, my Mr Kaspbrak, that's awfully forward of you.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, flicking the side of his head, “Not like that, idiot. I just thought we could... You know...”

“Boink?” Richie suggests and they both turn red.

“Who the fuck says boink, weirdo. No I meant like... Cuddle or something.” Eddie looks nervous and Richie rejects the idea to tease him further.

He draws Eddie's hand up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles reverently, “That sounds nice.”

Eddie smiles and Richie leans forward to quickly kiss it.

“Well,” He says, leaning back, “Lead the way.”

\---

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

_Pause._

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

_Pause._

_Tap. Tap-_

_Eddie finally looks up from his desk and Richie grins from the window. The smaller boy quickly get up and opens it, allowing Richie to elegantly (see; clumsily) fall into his room._

_“What the hell are you doing here?” Eddie hisses, not bothering to help the boy up off the floor, instead choosing to look worriedly at his bedroom door._

_Richie springs to his feet, “Sleepover!”_

_He's hurriedly shushed and Eddie shakes his head, “I can't, my mom's been really sick this week so-”_

_“So it's the perfect time for me to stay over! She'll be so sound asleep that she won't even know I'm here.” Richie watches Eddie worry his lip, glancing again at the door._

_“Fine. But it's your fault if we get caught.” _

_Richie just grins in response, slinging his arm around his shoulders and leading them both over to the bed. He toes his shoes off along the way, ignoring Eddie's grimace at the mud he's tracked in._

_“Look, I've brought something that will make it worth your while.” Richie tosses his bag onto the bed and roots through it before triumphantly pulling out the newest X-Men comic. Eddie's eyes go wide._

_“Richie, where the hell did you get that? I thought they ran out of those at the store!”_

_He just laughs, “I have my ways, Eddie. Never doubt the genius of Richie Tozier!” Eddie rolls his eyes at that but seems to relax._

_The two boys grab a flashlight and bundle together under the covers, taking turns to hold the light and flip the pages. Every so often on of them will whisper a joke and they'll end up hushing each other, trying to keep quiet._

_Eventually, once they've finished the comic and theorised about what the next issue might hold, they place the flashlight on the bedside table and get ready for bed, Eddie chastising Richie for his lack of toothbrush, giving him a new one from under the sink._

_(“But don't fucking leave it here, I don't want your gross mouth germs festering in my house!”_

_“Aw, but your mom loves my mouth germs Eds!”)_

_Then they settle into the bed, a foot of space between them._

_Richie rolls over a few times before tugging petulantly at the covers, “Eddie, gimme some of the covers, I'm freezing my balls off over here.”_

_Eddie ignores him and for a moment Richie thinks he's asleep. He tugs the covers again, “Eddie. Spaghetti. Eds.”_

_For a second it's silent and then,_

_“Don't call me that.”_

_Richie grins triumphantly, “I knew you were still awake!”_

_Eddie bundles the sheets tighter around him._

_“Hey asshole, I'm cold!”_

_“Should have thought about that before inviting yourself over to my house.”_

_Richie rolls his eyes before scooting closer to Eddie, “Hey, Eddie.”_

_The smaller boy looks up and Richie dives for the side of his neck, his fingers tickling the soft skin. Eddie's face splits into uncontrollable laughter and he squirms, trying to push Richie away but instead allowing him access to his underarms._

_The two boys tussle, the sheets ending up scrunched at the end of the bed as Eddie kicks his legs, trying to escape Richie while staying on the small bed. Someone's flailing limb catches on the bedside table and the flashlight crashes to the ground with a loud bang._

_The boys freeze, Richie half sprawled over Eddie, their eyes locking before shooting to the bedroom door. They strain there ears, both hearing the tell-tale creak of Sonia Kaspbrak walking down the corridor. She pauses at the door and they both watch with baited breath as she waits there. A full minute ticks by before she shuffles away, clearly satisfied by the lack of follow-up sounds._

_They both breath a sigh before Eddie whacks Richie's arm, hissing into the darkness, “Idiot!”_

_“Hey, you're the one who hit the flashlight off!”_

_“Only because you won't get off me!” Eddie starts to squirm again but Richie just flops over him, a complete dead-weight, “Get off!”_

_When Richie does eventually move off, Eddie grabs the covers, making sure they're both full covered before closing his eyes, “Night, Rich.”_

_Richie smiles a soft, secret smile at his best friend._

_“Night, Eddie.”_

\---

Richie wakes up to a dead arm and a face full of hair. He blows out through his nose and lifts his head slightly, looking at who the head of hair belonged to.

_Eddie_.

He fails to contain his grin as he buries his face back into the soft locks, closing his eyes as he takes it all in.

Eddie.

In his arms. Their legs tangled, Eddie's back pressed close to his chest.

His arm, fucking numb.

He wiggles slightly, wincing a little at the pin and needles that shoot up from his hand. Carefully, carefully, he starts to pull his arm out from under Eddie and, just as he's about to free his arm from it's imprisonment, Eddie stirs.

He quickly pulls his arm out the rest of the way, wiggling it to try and get some feeling back.

Eddie rolls over to face him, although doesn't look at him as he buries his face in Eddie's chest, grumbling something against his bare skin.

“Sorry, what was that?” Richie whispers, unwilling to break the still of the morning.

“'S too early. Why'd you wake me?” He voice is heavy with sleep and Richie feels his heart tug with _something_.

“Well, _someone_ fell asleep on my arm, so sorry sleeping beauty,” He does bring his now mostly awake arm down to Eddie's back, gently stroking up and down the expanse, “I'm sorry I woke you.”

Eddie presses a sleepy, open-mouthed kiss to Richie's chest, “'S okay,” He shifts up a little, tucking his head into the space above Richie's collarbone, trailing his lips absently along the junction between his neck and shoulders.

Richie trails his hand up, tilting Eddie's head to carefully connect their lips. Eddie pulls back too soon and Richie whines, just the hint of a sound in the back of his throat but Eddie hears it nonetheless, his eyes crinkling.

“Sorry, your morning breath's kinda gross.” Richie goes to be offended but Eddie quickly presses another quick kiss to his lips.

They settle back after that, Eddie returning to letting his lips brush Richie's neck. Richie kisses the side of his head, “This is weird.”

He feels Eddie smile, “I feel like we should have been doing this our whole lives.”

Richie plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, humming in agreement, “Why don't we do it for the rest of our lives then?”

The question feels far too much, far too soon and Richie cringes a tiny bit.

But Eddie just nods, his hair tickling Richie's nose a little, “That's a nice idea.”

And isn't it just?

\---

The next time that Richie's touring and Mike's travelling line up, the Losers meet at Bill's house. Bill's always loved hosting, loved being able to offer a space for his friends to hang out.

They arrive throughout the day, with Richie and Eddie turning up last. They also turn up together but no-one thinks to question it.

All of them end up sat around the living room, perched on various pieces of furniture or, in Richie and Eddie's case, on the floor, side by side, backs against the couch.

“So, how've you gu-guys all been?” Bill asks, looking around at his best friends.

Mike smiles, a little self conscious, “Travelling's been really amazing. Being out of Derry it's like... It's like my life has really started, you know?” All of the Losers nod, Ben squeezing Beverly's hand, “I think I'm going to find a place in California. The beaches, the mountains... I just wanna be able to see sights like that everyday.”

They all nod and smile and enjoy the genuine hope that lights up Mike's face.

“But enough about me, how's things with you two?” Mike looks to Ben and Beverly. Richie taps his fingers restlessly and Eddie stills his hand, squeezing it briefly before letting go.

Ben and Beverly look at each other, clearly still smitten, “Things are good.”

“Really good.” Beverly adds, looking around at the group.

Richie bites his lip. Eddie gives him a warning look.

“We're actually thinking about-”

“Eddie and I are dating!” Richie bursts, unable to keep silent any longer.

The Losers go instantly silent, all eyes turning to the pair. Eddie goes red, bringing one hand up to his face.

“Well finally.” Bill says.

“Yeah, took you long enough.” Ben chimes.

“Are we meant to be surprised?” Mike asks.

“Honestly, I half thought you guys were secretly dating this whole time.” Beverly shrugs.

Richie grins around at all his friends before turning back to Eddie, gently pulling his hand from his face, rubbing it soothingly, “See, everything went fine.”

“I told you not to just fucking blurt it out! I wanted to tell them properly.”

Richie rolls his eyes, “Sounds boring.” He shuffles closer, their sides pressed together.

“Are you guys gonna be as gross as Bev and Ben?” Mike asks, sharing a look with Bill who grins back.

“Yeah, not sure I can h-handle two lovey-dovey couples.”

“We make no promises.” Richie says.

And he smiles, his hand and Eddie's remaining firmly tangled.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever just... Write again after over a year?  
Whoops.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed. This isn't really beta read so if you spot any typos feels free to tell me  
Any feedback is welcome
> 
> How are you meant to end these notes?  
Ciao?


End file.
